Page 8 of Rounding Third

“What’s so special about her?” I work hard to keep the jealousy out of my voice. The last thing I need is for him to realize how I feel about him.

“The better question is what isn't special about her?” He murmurs in a sleepy voice.

“Are you ever going to tell me who she is?”

“I don’t know. Maybe one day.”

“No, I want to know now. I don’t want to wait years.”

“I’ll make you a deal. On your wedding day, I’ll tell you who my mystery girl is.” He slips his hand down my arm and intertwinesour fingers. He kisses my knuckles before resting our joined hands across my stomach.

“That’s not fair. I'm not engaged and I don’t see that changing any time soon.” I pout. I hate when he doesn’t tell me stuff like this. I’m an open book with him, but he’s always been secretive about this woman’s identity.

I can't imagine any woman not wanting to date him. It’s always made me wonder who this could be. Who could possibly turn him down? That’s insanity.

“It’s called motivation, Sweets.”

“You want me to get married just so I can discover your secret?”

“I don’t want you to get married unless it’s to me,” he mumbles.

“Why would we get married? That’s crazy.” I roll my eyes, but my brain runs with the idea.

I imagine coming home from work and finding Smithy in our home gym. He’s working out while our kids play in a pack and play. He stops every set and talks to them while they smile up at him like he’s their entire world.

“There’s nothing crazy about that, Sweets. It sounds like heaven. Who wouldn’t want to marry their best friend?”

I try to find some sort of response, but when I come up with nothing, I snuggle a little deeper into his chest and press a soft kiss to his arm. He tightens his hold and kisses my neck.

“Let’s close our eyes for just a few minutes.”

My alarm goes off thirty minutes later and I know I was smart to set it. Smithy has a way of being all consuming and making you feel like the world doesn’t exist around us.

“You set that knowing we’d fall asleep, huh?” Smithy murmurs against my neck making goosebumps spread across my skin.

“It happens every time.” Reluctantly pushing away from him, I sit up and stretch my arms above my head. I need a nicer couch, this thing sucks.

“How about I go get us some dinner while you write?”

“That sounds nice. Thank you.” I peek over my shoulder and smile.

Smithy looks adorable with his chocolate hair all messy and sleepiness still showing in his eyes. It makes me think of all the mornings I’ve seen him like this. I always hope one day this will become my normal, but it never happens.

No matter what he says, Smithy and I getting married is a wild dream that will never happen.

After grabbing my laptop and a blanket, I curl up on the couch and begin writing. Smithy takes his time getting up and shuffling around my apartment. He doesn’t come here often because I like his place better, but he always acts like this is his home, just like I do at his house.

“I’ll be back in a few.” He kisses the crown of my head as he grabs my keys so he can get back into the apartment without me getting up.

As soon as the front door shuts behind him and I hear the lock engage, I turn to my computer and try to block out everything else. I probably have less than thirty minutes before he’ll be back. I need to get as much done as I can. Something tells me he plans on staying all night and that means working will be hard for me.

Almost an hour later, Smithy walks through the door with a takeout bag. He ignores me as he places it on the small table and grabs two plates. He hums to himself, taking a few containers out and laying them in a perfect line. He’s such a perfectionist and he doesn’t even realize it.

Setting a plate on the coffee table, he places a bottle of Dr. Pepper next to it. Then grabs his own food and drink, settling next to me on the couch.

He still stays silent and I think he’s trying to be respectful of me working, but I can't sit here and be silent as we eat. That’s just weird.

“Why are you being so quiet?”

---